All At Once
by gabrador
Summary: Joe Solomon and Abby Cameron have history together. As far as they're concerned, it's a long one– but no matter what, they always meet somewhere in the middle. (A series of One-Shots, still in progress!)
1. Barcelona: Part One

**Hello! I guess I'll start this off by saying that I ship JoexAbby shamelessly, and that's putting it lightly. I do realize that ***SPOILERS FOR GG6*** Abby and Townsend are together, (It's safe to open your eyes, now!) but I can't help but notice that Joe and Abby seem to have history, and an interesting one at that. Full of a lot of shirtless Joe Solomon, amiright? ;) Needless to say, I'm a sucker for these two, and I certainly hope I do them justice. Happy Reading!**

"Any sign of activity?"

"Negative."

"Jesus, you'd think they'd make a move by now. How long can they hole themselves up in there?"

"For as long as they like. What's the time?"

Abigail looked at her watch. "Nearly one o'clock."

Joe didn't take his eyes off of the telescope. He had been standing there for nearly an hour, watching the lit up apartment just across from theirs. The hotel room was fairly nice; tan walls, potted plants, paintings of Barcelona and ancient Gothic structures framing the dimly lit room. Their bed was folded and the pillows were neatly pressed, every crease down to a T. She thought it would have been an awful shame if anyone disturbed the maid's obviously hard work, and settled for laying down on one of the cushioned chairs. She flopped down onto its chestnut material, legs draped neatly across the arm rest. Joe gave her a sideways glance, raising his eyebrows.

"Tired?" He asked, his own voice showing traces of fatigue. Abby yawned and shook her head, waving loosely at him.

"Not a bit." She lied. "How much longer do you think we have?"

Joe looked contemplative and checked his watch. He didn't look pleased with the time and looked back through the eye of the telescope. "I'd give it another hour or so."

Abby groaned.

Joe looked at her, resting his elbow on his knee. His green eyes appeared brighter in the shallow light of the moon that filtered through the window, catching the side of his face in a curious way. Abby was too tired to admire him, though, and far too concerned about the course their mission was taking.

"Didn't Gallagher Academy teach you that patience is a virtue?" He asked in a light voice, snarky but playful. Abby crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Did Blackthorn teach you about punctuality? Because Langley wanted us back by tomorrow, and we haven't gotten a credible lead in the last 48 hours." Abby raised her eyebrows at Joe, who begrudgingly gave up on a snarky reply. He looked back out the telescope intently, showing no signs of any new activity.

A few minutes passed before Joe spoke. "You can fall asleep, you know." He didn't take his eyes away from the telescope, but did raise his eyebrows. Abby was snapped out of her drowsiness and sat straighter, taken off guard.

"I'm not tired." She lied again. Joe cracked a smile.

"Please. I can hear your eyelids closing from here."

"I'm resting my eyes."

Joe turned to her, his expression genuine. "Get some rest. I'll wake you incase something comes up on the radar."

Abby hesitated. She _was_ tired, and jet lag was never kind to her. It would be stupid to carry on the mission without proper rest, and while she was trained in the art of staying awake for extended periods of time (thank you, interrogation tactics and long, boring meetings), she still felt that she should leave the all-nighter to Joe.

Joe waited for a reply, but the only sound that met his ears was the sound of light snoring.


	2. Barcelona: Part Two

"Abby. Wake up."

"Hmmph?" Abby woke up Joe lightly shaking her shoulder, piercing green eyes staring down at her. There was no apology in his eyes for her rude awakening, but instead there was the deadly fire of excitement burning bright in his voice as he said, "The birds left the nest. And guess how they checked out of the hotel?"

"Credit card?" Abby's voice was rough from sleep.

"Bingo."

Abby sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She didn't realize that she had been sleeping in the bed, or the fact that no one but Joe Solomon could have moved her there. She took the clock off of the night stand and squinted at the red numbers that glared brightly in the still dim room.

"How long was I asleep?" She turned to Joe, who was packing up what little they had brought with them. He didn't need to check the clock when he said, "Three hours."

He turned to her, a knowing smirk on his face. "'Not tired' my ass."

Abby smiled half-heartedly. "I didn't want to miss the action." She got out of bed and took to pulling her dark hair into a ponytail. She shrugged her black jacket onto her shoulders to cover her grey tank top and slipped her boots on. Joe had changed into black jeans and a well-fitting grey sweater for the chilly morning air in Spain; it was the ungodly hour of three o'clock in the morning, and the sun had yet to warm Barcelona.

"They've still got the package?" Abby asked, taking her bag and stuffing her dirty clothes in it as Joe did the same.

"Looks like it."

"Looks like we're back in business, Joseph Solomon."

He gave her a hint of a smile and a cocky expression. "Like there was any doubt."


	3. Barcelona: Part Three

**Thanks so much for the encouragement and review! I really appreciate it, and hipe you enjoy! Happy reading :)**

Spy work isn't always karate-chops and laser beams (unless you're in a very bad position with a Swedish bank, in which spy work is _exactly_ that). It's a lot of waiting. A _lot _of waiting.

The traffic was bad that Sunday morning in Barcelona, vehicals crowding the narrow streets, bikers whizzing by their slow-moving car. Joe was cool and calm during the ride; Abby was just short of annoyed. They were sure to miss the interception at the airport if the traffic wouldn't let up, and at this rate, they'd be lucky if they'd be out of the city by the afternoon.

Joe tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, looking out the window to see if there was any sign of the traffic letting up. Abby crossed her arms and thought up various ways to cheat their way out of the wait, but unfortunately, stealing a motorcycle wasn't very low-key.

Then, she spoke up. "I spy something... Brown."

Joe looked at her, obviously caught off guard. He tried to bite back a laugh. "Excuse me?"

Abby looked at him, her expression deadpan. "What?"

Joe looked back at the car in front of them that had only moved two inches in the last six minutes. "Are you trying to play 'I Spy' with me? In the car?"

Abby failed to see the issue. "Well... Yeah."

"On our way to intercept a potentially dangerous package?"

"Looks like it."

"While Langley anxiously waits for our successful return?"

"Joe, answer the damn question."

He looked around their limited view of the city.

"Is it the... Is it that chair next to the blue bike?"

"Go fish."

"Is it..." Joe looked behind his shoulder. "The fruit stand?"

Abby smiled. "Guess again."

Joe, a well-seasoned operative trained in the arts of _noticing things_ was at a loss. He searched for whatever brown object she was talking about, offering his best observations only to have them turned down.

"I give up." He said after his eleventh try, leaning back in his chair as their car moved forward another inch. "What is it?"

Abby had been fingering at her soft hair, smirking. She held up a of strand, cocking a curious eyebrow at her partner.

"Look harder." She said, and then it hit him.

"It's your hair?" He asked incredulously, wondering why he hadn't even thought of it.

"Bingo."

"You're... Isn't that against the rules?"

Abby was pleased with herself. "Nope. All is fair in love and I Spy."

"As a spy, I detest that statement."

"As a fellow spy and best friend, I can confirm that there is absolutely no 'I Spy Handbook' waiting out there on a lonely bookshelf. Trust me."

Joe laughed. The traffic finally eased up enough for there to be a regular flow of cars passing by, car horns silenced so that people could get on with their lives.

"You're something else, Abigail Cameron."

She sat back in her seat with a self-satisfied smirk. "I try."


	4. Barcelona: Part Four

**Thanks so much for, yet again, the positive feed back! :) I havent had time to get back to the replies I got, but I'd like to thank you guys so much for being so awesome. Every review, favorite, follow and read really makes me smile, I appreciate you all greatly. Hope you enjoy!**

"Stick together," Joe Solomon's voice had a certain tautness to it that made Abby tense up. She fell in step with his quick stride, trying to look as casual and normal as possible in the more or less busy airport. People lugging suitcases pushed past them in a daze. Abby felt ready; she became oddly aware of the weapon she carried, a gun that felt hot against the waistband of her jeans.

"There they are." She heard Joe close to her ear. "Your three o'clock."

Abby glanced slightly to her upper right, her gaze falling on a man and a woman. They had the same rigid posture that her and Joe kept, their feet in synch with each other's and their shoulders touching. The man was tall and brawny, a black jacket over his hunched shoulders. The woman, a small and delicate brunet, turned around to see if they had any tails. Abby looked away, adverting her gaze to the person in front of her.

"They're checking for tails. Do you think they know?" Abby asked Joe, her voice barely above a whisper. Joe heard her.

"Theres no way. They're making a turn; take a right in three–" Abby and Joe approached a corner leading to the bathrooms, isolated and empty.

"–two–" Abby lengthened her stride and turned the corner. But before she could check to see anyone there, a suitcase came hurling at them. Abby had enough time to duck; Joe Solomon didn't.

She dropped to the floor, narrowly missing the hard plastic wheels of the makeshift weapon. She heard the blow land on Joe, caught off guard and hitting the ground hard beside her. It happened so quickly that when Abby turned around, she didn't see the kick come flying at her from the right. The black heels of a woman hit the side of Abby's face so hard that her vision went black for a moment– just enough time for her to roll out of the way and spring to her feet.

The woman looked at her with intense blue eyes. She had the same savage, threatened look in her eyes that Abby had seen so many times, her posture ready and solid. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Joe was on all fours, looking like he was trying to clear his head. But the moment there was a window, Joe was on his feet, and he and Abby were fighting the good fight.

The woman parried a kick from Abby with her arm, blocked a punch with her shoulder. They exchanged several blows that didn't land. The woman was good, blocking nearly every move Abby made, countering them with forceful kicks and punches that were too strong for someone who wasn't trained. It wasn't until she heard the same sound of punches landing that Abby realized that Joe was fighting the man she had seen earlier.

Suddenly, the sound of a cocking gun.

"Abby–!"

And then the sound of a gunshot rang in her ear before she could turn around.


	5. Barcelona: Part Five

Successfully out of Barcelona, Abby felt at home. Langley always provided her a warm sense of comfort, with its marble floors and vast white walls. The CIA logo printed on the floor reflected the ceiling lights brightly as she crossed it, heading towards the other side of the building for a debriefing.

"Was there any ulterior motive?"

"No."

"Was blocking the bullet Joe Solomon's last resort?"

The scene played out in her head for the millionth time. The gunshot. The fear frozen in her throat. Not realizing that the man and the woman were gone, but their package was still there. The pain in her chest when she fell to her knees at Joe's side, the hot blood on her cold hands.

"Agent Cameron?"

Abby was snapped out of her trance. "Yes?"

"Answer the question."

"Oh, uh– yes, it was in Joe Solomon's last resort."

"And it was in your best interest?"

Abby looked the agent across from her in the eyes. He had the same deadpan look, the perfect poker face that he was trained to wear during polygraphs. Her heart rate remained steady on the screen as she stared daggers at the man before her.

"Joe Solomon saved my life." She said, biting back a surge of anger, her voice cold. "On top of that, he completed the mission successfully _and_ we obtained the package. Why do you always have to assume there was some kind of underlying motive? A vendetta? Just because Joe Solomon used to–"

"That's enough."

The sound of an even calmer and collected voice came from the door that opened silently behind them. Abby turned around, shocked, and stared wide-eyed at the operative that commanded the entire room before her with a single phrase.

"This polygraph is over. Abby," Rachel Morgan motioned for her sister to get up in one swift motion. "Come with me."

The polygraph agent started to protest, but Rachel shook her head. "That's enough for today, Scott, thank you for your time." She grabbed Abby's arm and pulled her out of the room before the agent could stop her. She pushed Abby out of the door and into the bright hall, letting the door shut behind her.

Rachel spun around, furious. "What did I say about questioning the polygraph agents? They're only doing their job."

Abby didn't say anything. She was still in shock. She managed to find her voice in all of her surprise.

"You're back?" Abby asked, unable to believe that her sister, who had been gone for almost an entire three months in a deep cover operation with Matt, was finally home. And there she was, with the same elegantly deadly posture and cunning eyes, pretending that everything was right back on track. Which it, might she add, totally wasn't.

"Looks like it." Rachel said, finally cracking a smile.

As they walked down the stark hallways and back to the medical bay, Rachel lost no time in catching up. Apparently, Langley had given her full access to their mission reports and debriefing records. And although Abby had the coolest and most collected older sister, sometimes Rachel has a tenancy to... smother.

"You handled that unprofessionally. You didn't have to try and push the mission. Langley would have extended your stay if you really needed more time." Abby tried to keep up with her sister, struggling to meet her stride.

"Rushing in blindly is and never should be an option. People get hurt and missions are compromised." Rachel stopped and turned to her sister. Her voice took on a new tone, caring and somber. "What if Joe hadn't pulled that man's arm in time?"

Abby felt her face grow cold. She felt the chilling words cross her skin before Rachel had a chance to say them.

"You almost died. And because you rushed in without a plan, Joe Solomon nearly did."

Abby looked up at her sister. There was something that Rachel didn't get about Abby and Joe– they were such a great team because neither one of them would ever let anything happen to the other. An unspoken understanding between them accounted for more than trust ever could, and they both knew that. Rachel, who only knew self sufficiency (save for when she was with Matt) couldn't grasp that.

Abby looked her sister in the eyes, her voice intent. "Rachel, Langley paired Joe and I because we're _good_ at what we do. All the guns and all the weapons in the world could break us." She saw her sister's expression soften as she spoke.

"Joe has my back, and I trust him with my life. He'd take a bullet for me without a second thought. And so would I."


	6. Barcelona: Part Six

**Hey guys!**

**Thanks so much to everyone who read, favorited, followed and reviewed this little fic of mine! I'd like to start off with saying that every single review is cherished dearly, and because I'm still kind of a newbie at this website, I'm not really sure how to address the anonymous Guest reviews. Until I can figure out an efficient way to address them directly, I'd like to thank all you Anons who were kind enough to leave a review! Hopefully I haven't disappointed any of you guys, and that you continue reading and supporting the small boat that is the S.S Joe/Abby. All the love and support doesn't go unappreciated, and I would like to personally tell you how much it really means to me that you took the time to read this little 6-part One-Shot! I can assure you, there will be more, so keep an eye out for updates on this same fic ;) Happy reading, and enjoy this wrap-up for Barcelona!**

"Hey, trooper."

Joe turned around. Abby smiled at him– a bandaged, bruised, and tired Joe Solomon smiled back, albeit slightly painful.

"Guess I won't be needing these, then?" Abby said, leaning off of the doorframe and sauntering his way with a bouquet of wilting flowers hanging from her hand. He looked oddly defenseless and vulnerable like that, shirtless and with a large wrapping of bandage and gauze covering the upper part of his right shoulder. Other than the wound that made Abby's chest twinge, he was looking pretty chipper for a guy who had just taken a bullet for his best friend.

"You bought me flowers. How thoughtful." He gave her a wry smile, nodding to the steadily increasing number of flowers that were gathered by his bedside. "Matt already dropped off some roses. Read the card."

Abby placed her flowers among the rest, picking up a cluster of roses that had a card hanging from it. She read it aloud, bemused.

"Sorry for your loss: R.I.P Joe Solomon's good bowling arm. Har."

Joe laughed. There was a bit of pull on his voice, a strain that indicated the lingering pain from the surgery. She sat at the edge of his bed, eyeing the bandage around his shoulder with curiosity and dampening guilt.

"How are you holding up?" She asked, nodding to his wound. He looked down at it as if he had forgotten; he moved his arm slightly in each direction to display his mobility. "It's actually not too bad," He said, a great deal of conviction in his hoarse voice. "Although I'll be off duty for a little while. That paperwork on my desk should be clearing up pretty soon."

Abby smiled. Joe Solomon was a lot of things– an amazing operative, a smooth talker, an enigma, a man. The entirety of his covert career couldn't have amounted to the courage she saw him muster then, to cover up for the regret and reluctance that she could barely detect in his voice. He was a field agent, above all things, and like a sailor needs the sea, Joe Solomon needed the field. He lived and breathed danger and adventure, as any other agent did when they caught a dose of the excitement that awaited them. Joe Solomon was a bird that had given up its wings for Abby to keep on flying. For that, she was grateful.

"Hey, Joe?" She found a tautness in her voice as she spoke. He looked at her, green eyes attentive.

"Thank you. I know you put a lot on the line for me the other day, and I..."

Joe waved at her, cutting her off. "Stop."

Abby was bewildered. "Stop what?"

"This," He said, gesturing to the air as if it held the answer. "This whole 'thank you' speech. Forget it. Forget all of it." He looked at her, genuine and serious. She felt something come over her, a wave of affection and admiration for the man before her as he said, "You don't have to thank me. You don't have to say anything. If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn't change anything. I'd do it all again."

And just when Joe Solomon had thought he had endured enough shock to last him a lifetime, Abby leaned in and kissed him.


End file.
